


Deep, Stupid Love

by katmarajade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Female Character of Color, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, POV Female Character, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7076710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/pseuds/katmarajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love is hard. Falling in love with your best friend is much, much harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep, Stupid Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiertorata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiertorata/gifts).



> Written for [](http://femmefest.livejournal.com/profile)[femmefest](http://femmefest.livejournal.com/) 2016 for [](http://kiertorata.livejournal.com/profile)[kiertorata](http://kiertorata.livejournal.com/). This story is far better thanks to the wise advice and keen eyes of my fantastic betas, [](http://theimpossiblegl.livejournal.com/profile)[theimpossiblegl](http://theimpossiblegl.livejournal.com/) and [](http://gelsey.livejournal.com/profile)[gelsey](http://gelsey.livejournal.com/).

Parvati Patil was in deep—deep, horrendous trouble and deep, stupid love.

She wasn't sure which was worse. Her life had been so simple and lovely up until two months ago. She had a great job as a Mind Healer at St Mungo's, a comfortable flat in Camden Town in North London, a fit boyfriend, and a fantastically fun best mate. Everything was perfect.

Until, in one fell swoop, she was dumped by her boyfriend and promptly (and quite unexpectedly) fell in love with her best friend.

It all started when Danny broke up with her. It had seemed quite out of the blue to Parvati, but apparently while she'd been busy establishing herself as a full-fledged, licenced Mind Healer, he'd gone and fallen in love with someone else. Though Parvati held no delusions that she and Danny had been True Love material, it still stung!

In typical best friend fashion, Lavender had rushed over to comfort her. They'd curled up in bed sharing a pint of Chocolate Marshmallow Fudge ice cream and two bottles of Parvati's favourite Riesling, which Lavender had gamely stomached, even though she loathed sweet white wines and was usually not shy about voicing her disgust. Lavender had cursed Danny's name, her finest, most inventive insults pouring down upon him like acid rain, the dirtiest of the lot making Parvati blush and giggle. Then, after a good cry, Lavender had rubbed her back until she fell asleep.

It was nothing new—they'd done all of those things before. They had been best friends since their first day at Hogwarts—more than half their lives! But something had changed for Parvati that night, and it had been making her life a living hell ever since.

She loved her best friend. Lavender Brown was an amazing woman. She was loud, sassy, bitingly sarcastic, and unapologetically willing to voice all of the horrible things that Parvati often thought but didn't have the guts to say out loud. Though tough, fierce, and quick with a hex, Lavender was terrified of spiders and had weaknesses for strays (she had six adopted cats), Firewhisky, and raunchy Regency romances. She was fun and fearless, loved dancing and good gossip, and was a hopeless romantic underneath her snarky exterior. Lavender always made Parvati laugh, appreciated all her quirks, and was the most ferociously loyal best friend anyone could ask for. Of course Parvati loved her! How could she not?

But up until that night six months ago, Parvati had never even _considered_ that her feelings could be more than friendship. After all, she liked men, always had. Lavender was the one who fancied women. A year out of school, Lavender had publicly announced that she was a lesbian. But Lavender was like that—she knew exactly who she was and was never shy about it. Having grown up in a household of impeccable propriety and emotional restraint, Parvati had always found Lavender's ability to express herself so freely both refreshing and inspiring. She admired Lavender, she loved Lavender, but she certainly wasn't _in_ love with Lavender.

Until suddenly she was.

She did try to ignore it, but it was a laughable effort and consummate failure. What if this was capital T, capital L, once-in-a-lifetime True Love? Parvati was not entirely sure she believed in that sort of thing—soul mates, fate, _The One_ , but didn't she owe it to herself _and_ Lavender to explore the possibility? She might be a practical Capricorn with her feet firmly planted on the ground, but love did funny things to even the staunchest of realists.

Her extremely strong desire to bury her head in the sand and to continue pretending that nothing had changed was warring viciously with the growing impulse to channel her inner Lavender and loudly profess her newfound feelings—no matter the consequences!

Neither of those was a particularly good option, she thought glumly. Really, what was a girl supposed to do?

 

 

 

Parvati was acting weird, and Lavender had no idea why.

And, if there was one thing that Lavender Brown hated, it was not knowing what was going on. (Well, that or spiders. It was neck and neck on that one.) Life would be so much easier if everyone else was as honest and upfront as she was. All this wishy-washy secretiveness was confusing and damn annoying, and honestly, Lavender didn't have time for that sort of rot!

Normally, Lavender's best friend was direct and spoke her mind—though perhaps not with quite the flair, profanity, or brutal honesty that Lavender did. However, Parvati _was_ the world's worst liar, so when she did clam up, it meant something important was going on and that she had not yet decided how to deal with it. After more than a decade of friendship, Lavender knew that Parvati would be extremely cross if Lavender pushed her about it before she was ready. If Lavender pushed, Parvati would cave; they both knew it. However, there was no one Lavender cared about more than Parvati Patil, so she forced herself to wait until Parvati was ready to share. But that didn't mean she couldn't give her best friend a helpful nudge in the right direction.

Her first thought was that Parvati was still hung up on her idiot ex, who'd unceremoniously thrown her over for some random woman. While Lavender had no idea who the new girlfriend was, she was opposed on general principle. _No one_ could compare to Parvati, who was ridiculously clever and the most gorgeous woman Lavender had ever met in real life. She had a subtle, dry sense of humour that had caused Lavender to shoot various beverages out of her nose more times than she cared to remember. (Firewhisky in the sinuses was an absolute bitch.)

"So I was thinking that we could do something exciting this weekend," Lavender helpfully offered as they were walking back to Parvati's flat with Chinese takeaway.

"Sounds great. What were you thinking?" Parvati asked, shifting the bag of extra fortune cookies, which Lavender always charmed the grumpy restaurant owner into giving them, to her other hand so she could unlock the door. "And before you even bother suggesting it, breaking into the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night to retrieve your handbag does not qualify as exciting. I am _not_ doing that again, no matter what you managed to forget this time or how many puppy dog eyes you give me."

"That was one time!" Lavender protested, her mouth twitching, as though it wasn't sure whether it ought to be pouting or smiling fondly at the memory. "I promise, this idea is slightly less illegal."

"Oh, _slightly_ less. I'm so relieved."

"We can egg Dinky Dick Danny's flat!"

Parvati raised an eyebrow and shot her an incredulous look. Unfortunately, it was less of the _you are a genius and a goddess among women_ type of incredulous look and more the not quite as desirable _how are you possibly this stupid?_ sort.

"Why on earth would I want to do that?" She wrinkled her nose, and Lavender thought for approximately the eight millionth time that it was unfair for anyone to look _that_ adorable while calling her an idiot. "It sounds gross and messy. Besides, neither of us is exactly a keen shot. We'd probably just end up splattering raw egg bits all over Mrs Thompson's window in the flat below, and she's such a sweet old lady."

"Okay—no eggs. We could put itching powder in his shoes! Or hire one of those singing telegrams and have them do a really embarrassing song and dance in front of his co-workers!"

"Lavender!" Parvati sounded exasperated. "Forget Danny! Honestly, he's not worth the time. He's just a … a … "

"A pathetic puffskein with bollocks as tiny and sour as half-melted sherbet lemons? A worthless wanker whose face and charm rival that of a bladdered baboon?" Lavender got a rush of pleasure when Parvati blushed and tried unsuccessfully to hold back her smile. It was absolutely worth the extra time Lavender put into coming up with inventive insults just to make her best friend blush like that, which she always did. Parvati could barely bring herself to whisper _bloody hell_ , which Lavender found endlessly amusing and rather endearing. "All right then, love. It's your call."

 

 

Parvati had been raised in a family of intellectuals. While she was less swotty and a much better dresser than any of the others, she was a pragmatic realist at heart, just like the rest of the Patils. In that vein, she had carefully and meticulously analysed her situation and newfound feelings. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that the love she felt for Lavender was far more than friendship.

She thought about it ad nauseam. Emphasis on the nauseam at times, honestly. Her mind churned in an endless loop, chasing her emotions through the depths of her structured thoughts, trying to make some sense of them. Was this a new feeling or simply a newly realised one? Had she always felt this way? Was she a lesbian like Lavender? No, she decided; she still felt attraction to men. Bisexual then? That didn't seem exactly right either. One thing, however, was certain. Whatever she was (and she still wasn't quite sure), she was no longer strictly straight.

With fresh eyes and new insight, she could look back on past experiences and wonder if these feelings had always been there, overlooked or misunderstood. Had that Girl Guide unit leader she'd idolised at age thirteen actually been a crush? She recalled the uncomfortably warm, self-conscious blushing she'd experienced when her older housemate Alicia Spinnet had taught her the sexy dance moves for the Weird Sisters' latest hit before the Yule Ball and suddenly wondered if that had been something more. Had it been desire? It was all very confusing but also rather freeing, like her world had suddenly grown a little larger, a little brighter … a little _more_.

However, fancying one's best friend was also _more_ complicated, _more_ difficult, and … well, actually it was just completely awful. If Parvati were more like Lavender, she might have done something about it—boldly declared her feelings or devised a grand, romantic gesture. Even an embarrassed, self-deprecating confession would probably suffice. It was rather ironic, really, that she'd forged a career out of skilfully convincing others to share their feelings when she was absolute pants at dealing with her own.

It was confusing, awkward, and uncomfortable. And now that Lavender had clearly taken it upon herself to cheer Parvati up, well … had she mentioned awkward?

 

 

It had been two months! Two bloody long, miserable months! Lavender deserved a sodding Order of Merlin medal for her extraordinary patience and courage in the face of her ridiculous, broken, beautiful best friend being all tight-lipped and distant! Things were reaching critical levels, and Lavender knew that she was approaching her breaking point. Obviously this situation with Parvati had to be sorted as soon as possible.

Tonight, she decided.

Her first instinct was exactly this minute (why wait?), but the last time Lavender had interrupted Parvati at work when she was with a patient, she had been quite cross. No, it was better to wait until tonight—and bring wine. She would even shell out the Galleons for Parvati's favourite Riesling, that ghastly grape garbage juice whose only redeeming quality was its pretty etched glass bottle. In addition to the wine, she'd pick up a bottle of Old Ogden's because she was neither mad nor stupid enough to attempt this sober.

It wasn't until she was lugging home the heavy bag that the thought dawned on her. Overwhelmed by a wave of nausea and a sudden, inconvenient inability to breathe, she had to stop. It only took one nasty look at the teenaged lovebirds occupying the nearby bench for them to flee, almost comical terrified expressions gracing their spotty little faces.

Parvati would have categorised that glare as a Level 3, Lavender thought miserably. She could have pulled out a full Level 5, of course, but that seemed overkill for a couple of twitchy teens. Thinking about Parvati's silly 5-tiered rating system, which Lavender had never fully understood but found adorably entertaining, was rather depressing given the circumstances.

This whole bleeding mess was about her. Two months this had been going on! How could she _not_ have noticed? It now seemed so glaringly obvious that she couldn't believe she'd missed it. Lavender loathed being out of the loop. There was very little worse than that foolish feeling that gnawed at one's dignity in situations like this, and, off the top of her head, Lavender could think of only three things that surpassed it: that thrice-damned Fenrir Greyback (curse his mangy soul), spiders, and the disgusting Riesling, of which she was currently hauling three bottles.

This was horrible.

This was humiliating.

This was … oh, what in the dark, bubbling cesspool of hell was she going to _do_?

 

 

Parvati arrived home in a foul mood. Talking with her sister about her current predicament had been a monumentally stupid idea. Padma obviously did not understand the severity of the situation. What kind of rubbish advice was "just talk to her about it" anyway?

"Honestly," she hissed, hurling her handbag on the counter with slightly more force than necessary. She glared at her very sad, very empty wine rack, wishing desperately that she'd thought to grab a bottle or two on the way home.

Or perhaps three, for that matter.

Parvati's pity party was interrupted by the loud crack of Apparition and the beautiful sound of clanking wine bottles.

"You brought wine!" Parvati enthused, grabbing the bag from Lavender's arms and unpacking its contents. It took a moment for the loaded silence to register, and she looked up in alarm. A quiet Lavender was _never_ a good sign. "What's going on?"

"What's going on? Like you don't already know! You've been keeping things from me for months now, and I was ridiculously patient, even though you _know_ how hard that is for me. Turns out that all of that effort on your behalf was a complete waste of my time. I thought you were upset about your dimwit-dipshit-ex-boyfriend, but no. Then I thought maybe it was work or a family thing or you'd started fancying someone new."

Lavender paused just long enough to violently crack open her new bottle of Firewhisky. Parvati opened her mouth to remind her of the half-full bottle that was already sitting by the wine rack, but she closed it abruptly when Lavender levelled her with a fearsome Level 5 glare that felt like fire engulfing her soul.

"But no—it's _me_. Isn't it?"

Parvati blanched, her mouth trying fruitlessly to form coherent syllables, and Lavender snorted derisively. "You always were an open book, Parvati. I just thought you had more respect for fifteen years of friendship than this."

She couldn't breathe. With each slamming beat, Parvati felt her heart fracture even further. Millions of possible scenarios had run through her head about this moment, both positive and negative, but none of them had been nearly this bad.

Lavender was a drama queen and a bitch, there was no question about that, but she loved Parvati. Maybe not romantically, but she loved her, didn't she? Not once had Parvati imagined her reacting like _this_. She'd envisioned getting laughed at or teased, pitied or dismissed; she'd considered that it might alter their friendship. But not this—never this.

The hot sting of humiliation prickled painfully below her skin; never before had she felt so hurt, as if she were breaking apart from the inside out. This wasn't just some potential love connection that she could write off with a wistful _what might have been_. This was _Lavender_ , her best friend, her confidante, the person who was closer to Parvati than even her own twin. She wasn't just losing a chance at love, she was losing _everything_.

Because without Lavender, Parvati didn't even know who she'd be.

Lavender was the one who'd dragged her shy, scrawny, eleven-year-old self out of her shell and taught her to laugh and to cry, to apply eyeliner and to flirt, to be brave and bold. She'd taught her how to be her own person, not just polite, proper Miss Patil, not just one of the twins, but _Parvati_.

Lavender had also taught her to get angry, and Parvati was certainly drawing upon that lesson now. Her outrage was the low, deep, visceral sort that emerged when one has been humiliated, and it smouldered in her belly as she fired back.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You don't get to talk to me like that. Don't you dare turn this on me, as if _I'm_ the one being a complete bitch. If this is how you're going to react … well, then you're a bad friend and a horrible person and not at all who I thought you were. Maybe I'm better off without you!"

She wasn't. Of course she wasn't! A world without Lavender alongside her was too devastating and cold even to contemplate. The words had just bubbled up, molten and furious, her breaking heart lashing out blindly, fiercely, desperately.

Levelling her with the nastiest glare Parvati had ever seen (she was going to have to add a whole new category because this made Level 5 look like a pouting Pygmy Puff!), Lavender spat back, "Maybe I'm the one who's better off without you! A real friend would never try to walk away from a friendship like this. I don't need this sort of rubbish in my life! I deserve love and respect and some damn appreciation! If anyone's a horrible person here and a bad friend, it's you! I just …"

Lavender's diatribe continued in earnest, growing louder and more vulgar as she hit her stride, but Parvati stopped listening.

"Lavender, stop," she interrupted, her voice back to its usual calm and her earlier emotional outburst extinguished. Lavender's astonished indignation (Parvati never interrupted her!) would have been funny if Parvati hadn't been so singularly focused. "Why _exactly_ are you upset?"

Face flushing, eyes flashing, Lavender inhaled sharply, obviously preparing to renew her tirade, and that was all Parvati needed to know. She stepped forward, placing her fingers gently but firmly against Lavender's open mouth.

"I have no idea where you got this idea, but I would _never_ walk away from you or this friendship."

Lavender narrowed her eyes but allowed Parvati to continue.

"I know I've been acting strangely, but it certainly was not because I don't care about you. Quite the opposite, actually. I've been a mess because I care too much. I'm in love with you, Lavender."

When Lavender just stared at her in uncharacteristic stunned silence, Parvati shrugged and gave her a helpless sort of look. "I mean, it kind of makes sense, don't you think? You're my favourite person in the entire world, and I've always loved you. But then, suddenly, it was different— _you_ were different. Or maybe you were the same, and I was different. I don't know. I just know that this thing I feel is real, and it's deep and it's scary. I'm bloody terrified that I'm going to ruin everything because our friendship is probably the best thing in my life—and I have a pretty good life, so that's really saying something! I don't want to lose you, but in a way, I already have, because you're not just my friend anymore. You're … you're _more_ and you're better, and I'm so lost, Lavender. I just …"

"You're completely arse over elbow for me. I get it. I mean, Circe on a scooter, Parvati—you've sworn like three times in the last five minutes. I thought the hot, juicy centre of hell would freeze over before I'd ever hear _that_ ," Lavender teased, making Parvati blush. Lavender, whose impressive collection of dirty words was more extensive than most people's entire vocabularies, had always patronisingly called Parvati's aversion to swearing _adorable_. "That's pretty hardcore there, Patil. I better tell my sailor friends to cover their ears if you're going to keep this up."

Parvati let out an exasperated huff at the teasing, slightly annoyed that Lavender was fixating on the _least_ important part of that entire confession, but the familiarity of the exchange comforted her. A slight blush spread across Lavender's cheekbones, and just for a moment, she let herself hope.

"So …" Parvati's voice trailed off.

Lavender rolled her eyes and tossed her long, wavy hair behind her shoulder in a seemingly flippant fashion. But Parvati knew better; that was Lavender's tell whenever she felt nervous. Which, to be fair, was an exceedingly rare occurrence.

The vulnerable look on Lavender's face was one Parvati had never seen before, not in fifteen years of friendship. It was soft and hesitant—everything Lavender was _not_. Yet, underneath the strange, seemingly uncharacteristic expression, it was unmistakeably Lavender. The way her head tilted to the left, the exasperation that played along the dip of her upper lip, and how, even now, her eyes seemed to say _I dare you_ , just like always.

Parvati bit her lip and gave Lavender a pleading look. _Please_ , it said. _Please just say it. Put me out of my misery and_ say _it._ Parvati couldn't help but wonder where the vaunted courage that had landed them both in Gryffindor had wandered off to. Finally, Lavender groaned, threw her head back for a second and took a deep, fortifying breath.

"I've never really thought about you like that, Parvati. I never let myself because that would have been ridiculous, right? You're not supposed to fall in love with your best friend, and you're especially not supposed to fall in love with your straight best friend. So, I'm a little overwhelmed right now because all of a sudden I _am_ thinking about it, and it's just … oh, for fuck's sake!" Lavender rolled her eyes, her usual sass apparently returning, and her voice regaining its confident cadence.

"You're my favourite person on the planet, too. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and you're brilliant and kind, and you keep me in check when I start crossing dangerous lines. You're funny and loyal and the absolute worst liar I've ever encountered. You also have horrible taste in wine and—"

"Hey!" protested Parvati, but her smile belied her offended tone.

With a smirk, Lavender continued. "As long as I'm being honest here, you should really know that there _is_ one major thing that I would change about you if I could. Only, I really wish that your itty-bitty Cinderella feet were larger because it's an absolute sodding tragedy that I am unable to borrow your collection of gorgeous designer shoes. I'm slightly bitter, just so you know."

"Yeah, that's not much of a secret. You've been casting covetous glances at my red satin slingbacks for the past year. So we're okay, then?" Parvati asked hesitantly.

They'd fallen back into their usual, familiar banter, and for the first time in months, Parvati felt comfortable with her best friend. Lavender had calmed down and seemed to be taking the news rather well. If it wasn't the love-struck, passionate response Parvati might have been secretly hoping for, well, that was only to be expected. The important thing was that they could remain friends because Parvati loved Lavender. She loved her in every conceivable way, and if maintaining the status quo was the only way she could have her, then that was what she would do. Would her heart break? Of course. But there really was no alternative.

"Of course we're okay!" Lavender snapped, appearing oddly annoyed by the question.

"Good. Then we'll just forget about this whole thing and continue being best friends. Deal?" Parvati held out her hand, and there was a long, awkward pause while Lavender stared at her like she'd grown several extra heads and perhaps a tail. "Lavender?" she asked, worry leaking into her tone.

"No! It's not a deal! I can't just forget about it. I … Come the fuck _on_ , Parvati! You can't expect me to be able to process something like this in two bloody seconds. This is huge and confusing and …" Lavender threw her hands into the air dramatically and let out an actual growl of frustration.

"I'm sorry. It's just that this—us—it's really important to me, and I know it is to you as well," she added at Lavender's affronted expression. "I just want to make sure I haven't ruined everything. It's absolute fine that you don't want me like I want you. I totally get it and—"

Shooting Parvati a look of absolute disbelief, Lavender scoffed and shook her head. "Are you mad? How could anyone possibly _not_ want you, Parvati? You're perfect. Well, apart from your appalling directional sense and your refusal to let me order olives on our pizza, which is simply cruel and wrong. But in all seriousness, I have spent _years_ looking for someone pretty and witty, and, well, gay. But it never worked because no matter how gorgeous, how sexy, how funny they were, they were never as good as you. I can't tell you how many times I turned down a second date or chose not to go home with someone because I'd rather be here. Because doing nothing with you is better than doing anything with anyone else."

"For goodness sake, Lavender! You're making Charles Dickens look succinct. Do you want me as your friend or do you actually want me as something more? Please, just tell me what you want."

"You," whispered Lavender, quieter than Parvati had ever heard her speak. Her nervous expression was a stark contrast to her usual confident, cheeky charm. Her voice broke slightly as the words tumbled out in a raw rush. "I want you—have always wanted you—in any and every possible way. You're it for me, Parvati. Full stop. It's only that I never in my wildest dreams let myself imagine this as even a possibility. And I can't help but feel like maybe that's what this is right now—a dream."

"Oh, Lavender," Parvati said, her grin so giant that she actually worried it might rip her face right in two. "I'm a Mind Healer. I know a thing or two about the difference between dreams and reality."

Whether it was the astonished elation, which floated effervescently in her chest or just plain old Gryffindor courage, which apparently had finally decided to show its face, Parvati pulled Lavender forcefully toward her. Her small, narrow fingers gripped the soft, rounded curves of Lavender's generous hips, and her breath hitched as she leaned in, bringing their lips tantalisingly close together.

"This is absolutely …" Parvati brushed a ghost of a kiss across one corner of Lavender's lips.

"One hundred percent …" Her hands snaked up to cup Lavender's face and stepped forward to bring their bodies into alignment.

"Real." She breathed the last word into Lavender's waiting mouth before losing herself completely in the perfect slippery slide of lips, in sweet cherry lip gloss and the bitter burn of Firewhisky, in Lavender and love.  



End file.
